Cabin fever was inevitable when
they said to quarantine
at home.
But who knew
how infectious it would be,
that it would affect household appliances?
And really how do you treat a refrigerator
that’s become animate
or
a disposal that’s learned
to sing by running at different speeds?
It could be worse; my neighbor’s vacuum
is learning flamenco.
I try to sleep.
The memory of
my grandmother telling me to stop
opening and closing the refrigerator door
comes unbidden. What would she have said
to a refrigerator that keeps
doing it, itself?
What
do you say to a creature
only recently awakened to emptiness?
Now, even cabins get fevers. I look inside,
and the refrigerator door
pops open.
